


She Was Most Beautiful When She Was Ugly

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River Song was the most beautiful woman the Doctor had ever seen, but he loved her best when she was ugly. In the mornings, with bad hair...</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Was Most Beautiful When She Was Ugly

He loved her best when she was ugly.

River Song was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Always perfectly dressed, perfectly coiffed, with perfect makeup. She was talented at it. And she knew she was beautiful, and she carried herself beautiful.

But she was most beautiful when she was ugly.

First thing in the morning was when he liked her best. When her hair was in all those strange and amazing configurations that only River’s hair could do. People with normal hair couldn’t have anything like the bad hair days River could.

So when she woke up in the mornings, with her hair looking like the Eiffel Tower, and a pillow crease on her cheek, all sleep flushed and satiny, with bright eyes that couldn’t quite seem to focus on him.

That’s when he loved her best. That’s when she was the most beautiful to him. No makeup, no sassy dialogue, just a fuzzy glower and hair like a brillo pad gone mad.

She was so wonderful that he’d fall out of bed laughing, which was fortunate because she’d take a swing at him, and that woman could hit!

Then when he popped his head up over the edge of the bed and looked at her, his hearts swelling in his chest, and a grin on his face, and loving her like nobody’s business, she’d turn up that regal nose of hers and get out of bed, still half asleep, and stumble over the sheets.

And when he’d try to hug her, she’d swat at him to drive him away and mumble uncomplimentary and indistinct insults at him.

And he loved her more than ever.

She was never quite awake until she had breakfast. And as she glowered and munched her cereal, her hair standing up like an army at bloody war on one side, and completely flat on the other, (making him want to start taking morning pictures, because no one else’s hair could create such amazingly interlocked and horrifying shapes as River’s,) he loved her even more.

And grinned.

Which made her glare at him.

Which just made him grin more.

Then she’d wake up, and go off to put on her face, and her elegant clothing, and her sassy and sexy attitude.

But, while he loved that too.

He loved her best when she was ugly.

—

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